


Diving Into Love

by Wolfermann



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone lives, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, M/M, POV Alternating, Scuba Instructor au, Slow Build, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, everyone laughs, everyone loves, no body dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-06-30 11:21:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15750642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfermann/pseuds/Wolfermann
Summary: Henry Collins is a professional dive instructor paying off his student debt by teaching classes at the local University. Harry Goodsir is a marine biologist in training that has never attempted to dive in his entire life. Collins has his work cut out for him as the clumsy but bright Goodsir is the worst student he has ever had the privilege to teach.





	1. Collins-Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a super self indulgent fic. I'm a certified diver by trade so I so, so, so love the hard hat diving scenes from the Terror (and I also adore Collins!) Will update sporadically but stick around

It was a typical start to the semester as the pool cleared from swimming practice and classes for the late-night crowd brave enough to take on another aquatic sport. Henry Collin’s hummed to himself softly as he prepped his station, rolling out a rack of BCD jackets and dangling regulators. He enjoyed moments like this where he could fall into his routine, gathering supplies before the storm of uni students. 

Sir John, his teaching partner, an enthusiastic retired naval officer who took up diving as a hobby in his free time told him that the roster was light which settled his anxiety. He had been instructing for a few years now, but big crowds always sent him into a panic. Thankfully he had never had an accident happen within his flock but some of individuals really tried to find new and creative ways to meet their maker underwater. His favorite incident involved a rat faced undergrad who offered him a joint while driving to the local quarry to complete the course. Collins wasn’t a malicious man, but he enjoyed failing him for being that stupid or bold, either way he obviously didn’t pay attention to the classroom portion of the class. 

Collins never saw himself teaching diving, he only got the advanced certification in hopes of gaining a job at the end of his far too expensive degree (really he shouldn’t have been surprised to discover Maritime Archaeology rarely ever hired.) But he made the best of what he could between instructing at the school and working full time in local dive shops.  
He got to live out his dream of getting paid to travel and do what he loved most, spend time underwater. Even the burning smell of chlorine seemed to keep him cheerful until he could get out into open water. 

Once everything was in order, he worked on setting up his own rig near the edge of the pool. The first day was always his favorite. Beginners courses usually involved people who had never breathed underwater before, and Henry found himself delighted seeing their expression the first time they submerged themselves. The shock, the panic followed by elation. It always reminded him of his first time learning to breathe fully immersed. 

Henry mused to himself while keeping an eye on the clock. It wasn’t abnormal for the first group to be late, they usually spent time changing and getting acquainted with the locker rooms. He had already prepared himself, letting a shorty wet suit hang limply at his waist, his broad chest exposed to the humid air. He would zip up when the students arrived, preparing for a short but cold pool session, and the promise of a celebratory beer with his roommate Charles Des Voeux later on.  
With a loud crash, Collins nearly jumped out of his skin while sending his mask flying into the shallow end. He plays witness to a darkened figure nearly toppling over a bench trying to rush over to his section of the pool. 

“I am so sorry, I am so, so sorry! Is this the right area? I’m supposed to be with a mister Collins.” Chirps the mysterious man, one of his students who looks more like a collection of curls than a man. Collins moves to shake his hand, taking his small palm within his own. The student gives him a limp shake before scrambling to grab a schedule from his bookbag. 

“That would be me. Please call me Henry. Careful now you don’t gotta rush, you’re right on time. What is your name?” 

“Harry Goodsir. Pleasure to meet you and please call me Harry. I’m truly excited for this opportunity. I’ve always wanted to be a diver myself but never found the time until now when my brother- He’s a professor here in the medical department, he showed me the course offers and I could /not/ say no.” Henry admired him for a moment while Goodsir rambled on in a nervous fashion. He was stalky, with warm brown eyes and a mess of chocolate curls on top of his head. He wore a pair of thick rimmed glasses he pushed up to on to the bridge of his nose. His student looked more suited (and dressed) for a lecturer’s position. Collin’s painfully watched as he shrugged clumsily out of a cardigan to prepare himself for the pool, catching him once as he managed out of his jeans. 

“Are you an experienced swimmer, Harry?” Collins smoothed back his dark frizzy locks, realizing in his surprise he had forgotten to fit himself completely into his wet suit and that his goggles were still submerged. Three years of being a professional tossed down the drain. He mentally noted to text Charles to pick up something stronger for tonight. Embarrassed he treads his arms through the sleeves of the suit, tugging the neoprene into place and zipping himself up before Goodsir could remove his shoes. 

“Yes, actually. I’m sure I’ll take to the water like a fish once I get in.” The smaller man rubs his hands together, now sporting green board shorts patterned with blue sea turtles. Collins glances at his soft belly covered in wisps of dark hair, feeling bridled with shame over the act. If Goodsir noticed, he surely didn’t say anything. “I have to tell you that I’m the only person enrolled in the class, Sir Franklin wanted me to tell you that since he couldn’t get his school email up and running. So we will be spending plenty of time together.” 

Harry was cute. 

Harry was his type. 

This was already going to be a problem. 

“Excellent. Welcome aboard, Harry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BCD = Buoyancy Compensator Devices
> 
> Regulators/Octos = what you breathe out of


	2. Harry's Misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry worries he's not exactly cut out for diving and Henry has the patience of saint

Harry drudged home to his flat, looking more like soaked cat than a man. His curls lay plastered to his head, while the stench of chlorine and cheap gym soap seemed to waft cartoonishly from him. He really loved the concept of diving, he loved the classes with sweet old Sir John, but the day at the pool was already a miserable failure. Goodsir collapsed on his couch, falling face first with a grunt in greeting to his younger brother, Robert perched in an armchair and stabbing at a cup of ramen.

“Bad day huh?”

“Something like that,” The older Goodsir groaned, weakly pushing himself up to look at his brother. “Next time I tell you I want to take a course in diving science, just knock some sense into me.” Robert arched a bushy dark brow.

“It can’t be /that/ bad. You just need to lay off sweets and actually go to the gym when I invite you out.” Goodsir responded by heaving a couch pillow at the offending party and groaning more loudly. Robert dodged the assault easily, cackling at his pain.

Diving was supposed to be his relief from his course schedule this semester, a reprieve from writing his thesis. The class work was relatively easy, albeit horrifying learning all the ways he could perish but Sir John made it better. He was a sweet, grandfatherly figure who tended to ramble a bit about his days in the Navy and occasionally brought in biscuits his wife made for the students. Sir John had insisted he keep the remaining treats being his only student for the hour and Harry had begrudgingly accepted (and then proceeded to stress eat the rest between his assistantship and pool time later that evening). Nonetheless, that portion seemed fine.

“I fear the instructor hates me and wants me to drop off the face of the earth.” Mister Collins was entirely unexpected. He expected someone similar to Sir John to be in charge of the physical portion of the class, not a stoically handsome man close in age with the patience of a saint.

“I doubt that. What exactly did you do to him?” Robert moved from the chair to go fix his suffering brother some tea.

Images of him struggling in the pool flooded back to him. He had nearly injured himself three times while putting on the incredibly heavy dive gear. Mister Collins made it look so easy slipping in and out of his jacket and weights as if he were born in the ocean. His instructor guided Goodsir into the pool where he immediately lost his weight belt underwater, hooking around his fins and pulling him under. Thankfully Collins was quick to the draw, grabbing him by the hefty tank and bringing him to the surface and dragging him back to the shallow end to readjust. Goodsir muttered flustered apologies while Collins smiles softly at him.

_“It’s no problem, Harry. Happens to the best of us.”_

He had done his best but the only thing he had gotten right was remembering to keep breathing. Collins helped him out of the pool only for Goodsir to discover he had left his towel sitting in his small office far across campus. Thankfully the bigger man offered up one of his for Harry to use, which sent him sputtering and feeling more like a burden to the man. He promised he would return the towel to him clean by the next pool session. Collins only looked at him warmly.

_“You best keep your promise. Until next time then Harry.”_

If he didn’t need to course so badly, he would drop out immediately and avoid Henry Collins for the rest of his life. Unfortunately, they seemed trapped together for two nights a week for the next four months, with more time if he wanted to get certified (which he needed to, he reminded himself). His summer centered around a season of diving, taking samples for his study on the local crab population. Everything rested on him getting his act together all in the name of science.

“Go take a bath and stop feeling miserable for yourself. Just go back in and tell him you’ll get better at it,” Robert listened to his troubles, returning to gift him with the tea. He appeared sympathetic, while his chestnut eyes flickered with mischievous intent. Robert had always been the most roguish of the Goodsir children. “Was he at least cute? You could always su-.”

Roberts comment was quickly stifled with another couch pillow heaved his way, this time hitting it target directly in the face.

“You are absolutely insufferable!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Robert Goodsir seemed to be quite the hellion. Also the mishaps in the pool might be based off of first hand experience.


End file.
